It was Sunday morning last October
And you said “Thanks for not saying, ‘Hi.’”
Moments come and go so quickly.
That day, I wouldn’t have dreamt I’d be writing this… but
There always has to be something begun and something over
And there are so many answers as I’m asking ‘why?’.
I’ve known you for so long, but never really let you see me–
Until now– I’m finding you’re the one that I miss.
None of this is what I fantasized over on my own
And it doesn’t really fit with all my ceaseless planning… but
I’m so close to being myself when I’m with you
That I’m finding myself give in and jot this down.
I don’t know what we’ll find, but there’s so much there.
Maybe we’ll find it’s a small flame worth the fanning.
Then again, maybe we’ll find it’s only sparkled because it’s new.
But lately, I can’t seem to help but keep coming around.
There are so many questions looming here,
But around you they seem to disappear.
Honestly, I didn’t and don’t want to like you now.
But here I am and so far it hasn’t faded somehow.
Perhaps this will be the only poem I write.
But if so, at least I’ve been able to smile at a flicker’s light.
Let’s see where these moments go.
It was Sunday morning last October
And you said, “Thanks for not saying, ‘Hi.’”
–Written by Sandy Heights
Image by <a href=”https://pixabay.com/photos/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=691995″>Free-Photos</a> from <a href=”https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=691995″>Pixabay</a>